‘Tell me the truth, Melusine. A militiaman came belting down the stairs, another leapt from outside the front door, and a third, stalwart and stolid, came in through the door that led to the rooms to the front of the house. The folds of a thick muslin neckcloth in some degree protected him, but the gash was desperate. Heard voices. ‘You have something more to tell me?’ Jack grinned. Shall I send him to Sir John?” Annabel was white to the lips, but her anger was not yet spent.
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